


The Stem Of Colors

by AbramWilson



Category: No Fandom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-26 03:30:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21367468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbramWilson/pseuds/AbramWilson
Summary: Just the start of a story I freestyle wrote late at night, not really done with it yet.





	The Stem Of Colors

A flock of sheep tended to the furnaces, hauling out tools made of copper and steel as their wool stained of the dark dust of coal. The weapons were hastily tossed into the flames of an ever-burning tree, and the swords and bows smelted in it developed cracks engraved into their surface resembling tree roots. They were wielded thereafter by a young boy without eyes; his skin was present at the place where he should have bore them. The heat of the sword reigned as magma resided in the cracks of it, yet he did not fathom a gasp of pain upon grasping it. The sword guided him towards one of the furnaces where he wished to go, and he greeted a sheep smelting weapons.  
"What may I repay you with?" Inquired the boy, seeking honor in compensating for their aid. The sheep stared at him blankly, and eventually concluded to feast upon the grass below them. The boy decided to sit with the sheep for a while, prompting it to follow after him once he made to set off, seeking further affection. He gave it a final hug before he left.  
He then swiftly embarked into the plains brimmed with thick, long grass. Although he sought for his departure to be discreet, a stone flew at him merely a mile amidst his venture, and struck the boy in the back of his skull. He recognized the specific assault, and drew his blade into the ground to greet the culprit. The magma fled from the cracks of the sword and scattered upon the ground like worms seeking a spot to dig into. A flustered turtle sprung out (not without a rain of dirt accompanying it) and glanced around. The boy felt it: it was relatively short; about a third of the grass that lay around it, yet it's shell was made of stones.  
"Stop laying siege upon me!" Bellowed the boy. "Else I'll slit your stem with one of my arrows."  
"That's a dishonorable way to perish, yet I merely care of myself," responded a velvet rose about five inches astray from him, which was now contaminated with dirt. "I am dissatisfied with being murdered, not of how I am murdered."  
"Where are the others?" Asked the boy, glaring upon the plains. He was struck by another stone.  
"You will not know," spoke the rose. The boy hastily crushed it with his boot.  
As soon as the rose absorbed it's final surge of sunlight, however, the winds about the fields grew fierce whilst carrying countless stones, gradually fabricating a slope with layers of them ascending towards the clouds. He witnessed a multitude of turtles in the far distance begin to climb it, burdened with deep sorrow. Their tears were of abundance, soaking the clouds to such an extent that it began to rain. The magma returned to the sword, and the boy trailed among the plains again, seeking a spade.  
There was a ravene nearby which flooded into a river upon his arrival due to the heavy rainfall. The boy took to the idea of swimming across it, yet amidst his swim hearkened the water stirring below him, before a hand struck out. Another stretched out, both using the shores of the river to pull up the rest of the body. What emerged from the river was a rather thin giant, appearing to be formed from a mixture of iron and stone with tree roots tangling throughout the limbs and body, varying from oak to spruce. It gazed about the plains and, at length, glanced upon the traveller wielding eyes made of leaves as ripe as summer.  
"The land have aged poorly amongst these years," spoke the creature solemnly. "The trees have failed to conquer the lands and died off, allowing the rivers to flood into my ravine once more and quench the roots which allowed me to sleep due to their thirst. What sparked the flood, may I ask?"  
The boy was rather flustered regarding the unexpected voice inquiring him. It seemed as if it were a man the length of the mighty oak trees he would recline under as a child, heeding in awe to the leaves rattling high above him. He had never encountered a man of such stature, however, and his mother's formal advice of how indulging in river water would bless boys with growth struck him (though it was clearly not the case in this instance).  
"Turtle tears," responded the boy as he shifted towards the giant, merely hoping for the creature to grant him a spade. The latter appeared aghast.   
"I would not believe you, child, unless you convey to me proof of this matter," the creature spoke.  
"I'd fancy a spade first," demanded the boy.  
The giant was quite bewildered of how nonchalant the boy's tone appeared, though he could not grasp a good look at his face with eyes bearing blurred sight from the spell of slumber. Tales of the giant's existence were concealed by only the trees, and he pondered of how the boy was not intimidated by one as peculiar as him.  
"No need, I'll dig up any hole you desire!" Retorted the giant. "Just aid me and I shall aid you."  
The boy complied upon hearing the promise, shifting in the direction of where he had heard the stone slope form and guiding the creature towards it. They halted near the grounds where the boy stomped on the rose, and the giant gasped when he set sight upon the turtles all migrating towards the clouds.  
"Who had slain the final flower of the forest?" Bellowed the giant. He scurried towards the packs of turtles I'm the distance and struck the slope with great might. It did not budge, however, as these particular sort of stones were vessels for many spells that could render even the largest of giants as useless. The boy's sword guided him towards the giant, who concealed his face amidst his palms.  
"I may not rest, as long as turtles take throne to the clouds," cried the giant, wallowing over the lack of slumber (although it had been asleep for centuries beforehand).  
"So it shall rain forever now?" Inquired the boy, sitting against the giant's leg.  
"As long as the turtles are upon there: yes," responded the giant.  
"The damper the ground is, the easier it is to dig," conveyed the boy, rising from the ground.  
"Wait!" Exclaimed the giant. "What is it that you seek from the ground?"  
"I seek to rid of the supply of stones which turtles store in their underground tunnels," responded the boy.  
"How do you know of the tunnels?" inquired the skeptical giant, hauling itself from the ground with a mighty yawn.  
"A tortoise burst from the ground, so I could only assume there are tunnels which they use for travel far beneath the soil," responded the boy as he made to depart to where he slaughtered the rose. The perplexed giant accompanied him.  
"And did you know of a flower by chance which resided in the fields?" The giant further pressed.  
"Yes," replied the boy, hastening his pace as the giant strode beside him. "I used to venture into the fields quite a lot, and the rose frequently sought to discourage me with pebbles. The turtles have curves on the edge of their shells which they carry them on and consistently bash my skull with until I depart."  
" So you slaughtered the rose?"  
"Yes," responded the boy simply. "It was jesting me; I had no motive not to."  
The giant stared down, clasping his palms upon his head. He sighed so mightily that a brisk of wind struck a clump of grass below and relinquished it from the ground. He glared at the boy scurrying besides him, yet just then acknowledged his lack of eyes.  
"You do not possess sight," he spoke aloud, prompting the boy to raise an eyebrow.  
"Yes, you hadn't noticed?" He inquired, appearing quite puzzled.  
"Forgive me," the giant conveyed. "For I am still drowsy with the pint of slumber veiling my senses. Yes, I recall your kind. There weren't much of you amidst my last awakening."  
"There aren't many folk like me as of now either," spoke the boy. "Not that I know of."  
The giant mused upon this silently, yet the boy seemed to have possessed the same inquiries he pondered of.  
"How long have you slumbered for?" He asked, yet fell silent as they arrived upon a crushed velvet rose. It's stem strayed from it's roots, and the silky petals were quite creased. The giant warily grasped it, examining it's remains amidst his palms.  
"The final rose of this forest," he mumbled to himself. He shifted towards the boy, who sat cross legged in front of him, feasting upon the berries he stored in a pouch prior to the venture. The rain was still abundant, soaking their clothes and food, yet they did not regard it.  
"I do not know how long I have slept for," the giant began whilst he sat beside the boy and pilfered a berry from his pouch. "Yet this place bore a thicket of trees upon my prior awakenings. The forest had always ensured me a pleasant and hushed slumber, yet when water strayed into the ravine I slept in, the tree roots upon me would awaken.  
"I am only able to sleep when the roots are dry, you see, as the roots tend to sleep when deprived of water. This ensures that they do not perish from thirst, and allows me to greet a peaceful nap. I have not a clue of the fate which the trees endured amidst my prior era of slumber, yet I am aware of the consequences of your murder."  
The boy hadn't actually thought much of the giant prior to this tale. Although he had never encountered a giant beforehand (let alone been accompanied by one), he had only wished to stray from these fields as soon as he may be able to.  
"I only killed it because it did not allow me to go across the fields," retorted the boy, a bit frustrated. "I needed to go to a village in the west, yet every time I set out into these plains, I was met with a shower of stones. I later stumbled upon barracks north from here and learnt that the rose was the origin of this, yet the keepers of the place would say no further."  
"The turtles would never allow you to step near the rose," acknowledged the giant, picking another berry from the boy's pouch. "If you could not embark across these fields before, how should you have been able to stomp on the rose without retaliation."  
The boy chose not to speak of his blade; he did not know of the giant very well yet and certainly did not trust him. It was sheathed behind his back, yet appeared as a regular sword to deceive curious eyes.  
"I'm not sure," responded the boy naively.  
"You spoke of a turtle bursting from the ground," the giant pressed.  
"Yes."  
"Why had it done that?"  
"I don't know."  
The giant took another berry. "The turtles only reside in the tunnels when they are certain that they shall perish on the grounds. You must have possessed some sort of spell to repel them."  
"No," the boy grumbled. "I told you, I am not sure of anything."  
"Very well," the giant shrugged, though he did not trust that the boy lacked knowledge of these oddities. "So you'd fancy me digging up a hole into the turtle's tunnel?"  
The boy nodded.  
"Alright," the giant said whilst hauling his body up. "Yet it appears in vein; the turtles are fleeing from their homes in pursuit of the skies, so there aren't likely to be many scouring the grounds."  
"And if they begin showering stones from the skies?" Inquired the boy.  
"That may occur," mused the giant. "How do you propose we rid of them then?"  
"I will find the place where they store their stones, conveyed the boy. "Then you shatter them."  
"I am doing more than what he had bargained for, it seems," retorted the giant.  
"If you aid me to reach the villages upon the west, I will help you halt the turtle's sorrow," promised the boy.  
"And what if I am too large to fit into the tunnel?" Pressed the giant, on the brink of complying.  
"Then you could dig down from the surface and crush the stones from above," conveyed the boy.  
"The turtles may have gathered all their stones by now."  
"You overestimate the haste of turtles," concluded the boy. The giant did not argue and crouched down to begin digging.  
The boy had been correct in regards to the dirt; it's dampness allowed it to be drawn apart swiftly, though loose soil still occasionally scurried into the hole. This irritated the giant quite a bit, yet he pursued to dig deeper in hopes that the tunnel was not far off from the surface. The boy had consumed half his pouch of berries before the giant abruptly let out a groan.  
He ascended from the ground and swiftly scurried to the edge of the hole, only to hear the giant's bellow of reassurance.  
"The roof of the tunnel has collapsed under my mass, it seems," he called. "The tunnel is not able to accommodate me; I am too large to venture in it."  
It was true: the giant's legs could fit into the tunnel, yet even whilst crouching, the rest of his body could not. He rose up, noting that his head was merely a few feet away from the surface, though the tunnel lay far below. He could climb out of the hole with ease, but his weight upon the soil would cause it to flee into the tunnel, burying it's entrance once more.  
"I will carry you down here," spoke the giant at length. He stretched out his hand, which was long enough to reach the surface, an lowered the boy into the tunnel as soon as he rested upon it. He remained crouched whilst the boy gazed about the place, prompted to draw him out if any fatalities lurked amongst it. It appeared as a great hall, bearing torches brimmed across the walls upon either side. There were arches preventing the tunnel from collapsing on itself and a supposedly paved path ahead.  
"Will you be safe down there?" Inquired the giant, who grew a bit anxious upon noting the light which shone below him.  
"I've ventured farther than this," replied the boy. "You shouldn't worry."  
"How have you manage to see without eyes?" He further asked. The boy shifted in the giant's direction.  
"Whenever I take a step, a gust of wind scurries about," he conveyed. "I hear the wind collide upon the ground, walls, and other objects (if the place I am in bears them). it aids me in mapping where everything lies, yet I have not a clue where the wind comes from."  
The giant appeared skeptical, though the boy did not see it. Far too many instances succumbed to the boy's favor, and it was beginning to seem quite peculiar. The boy, however, had spoken the truth when he had been unsure of how the wind aided him.  
"Very well," he sighed, and bade him off. The boy turned towards the tunnel and began wandering amidst it, pacing gradually as he adjusted to the place. It was relatively hollow, bearing the occasional stones clattered on the floor which the boy simply stepped over. He did not dare to stray from the middle of the hall, as he bore a great risk of being ignited by the torches about him.  
Yet his stealth was in vein, as he abruptly tripped over what he first regarded as a stone, nearly colliding with the flames positioned upon the left side of the hall. 'That stone was farther down the hall a second ago,' he pondered to himself, and suddenly recalled the turtles. He pressed his palms upon the ground to haul himself up, yet noted something very odd about it. It was made of wood.  
"Stop," bellowed the boy, unsheathing his blade. "Why are your dwellings crafted of wood?"  
The turtle halted, glaring at the sword as if it had already struck it. The magma made to slip through it's cracks and to the ground, yet was confined by a sudden burst of wind whispering about it. The turtle fled hastily (for a turtle's pace, of course), and upon it's departure, the wind halted and an owl dropped onto the floor.  
The boy sheathed his blade and crouched down to grasp the creature. He veiled it amidst his arms and trailed back towards where the giant remained, bewildered of the queerness regarding this tunnel.  
"I've returned," greeted the boy as he knocked upon the giant's foot, prompting him to stretch out a hand for the boy to recline upon. He carried him away from the tunnel and onto the surface, heaving himself out of the hole thereafter. The dirt scurried into the ditch, hastily burying the entrance they had made, as predicted. Upon the grass sat the boy, the giant, and the slumbering owl.  
"It has not perished," reassured the giant upon examining the creature. "How had you come across it?"  
"I found a turtle-" began the boy.  
"Are you referring to this one, by chance?" Inquired the giant, abruptly revealing a stone shelled turtle he had plopped onto his head prior to the boy's return. He held it out for the boy to feel.  
"It jolted into me whilst attempting to scurry south," the giant heartily laughed. "It appeared mortified; so I placed it upon my head for safe keeping."  
"Yes, it's the one," spoke the boy whilst stroking it. "I had not felt it in the tunnel, yet I know that it was the only turtle who fled towards the south."  
"Then why stroke it?" Inquired the giant.  
"I am just fond of turtles," responded the boy simply.  
He proceeded to convey the odd tale of what had occured in the tunnel (excluding the part regarding the magma straying from the sword; he merely attempted to persuade the giant that the wind encircled the sword to prevent it from striking the turtle).  
"Of course," the giant concluded at length, pressing a palm against his head. "The bird that lays before us is a Halogen."  
"A Halogen?" The boy inquired. He had never heard of a creature bearing that name before.  
"Yes, a Halogen," repeated the giant. "These are birds that seem as owls, yet are able to morph into the wild or water at will. They are witty creatures, yet possess the willpower to place any life before their own. I am not quite sure if the Halogen in regards will ever awaken, however, as it appears to have suffered a great fatigue."  
"It must have drained it's stamina upon it's attempt to halt my blade," conveyed the boy.  
"Or it had endured a spell to render it unconscious," retorted the giant smugly.  
"I am no witch!" Bellowed the boy, sharply aggravated. "I do not know why you bring up this!"  
"Why would you attempt to strike a turtle with your blade if you are fond of them?" Inquired the giant skeptically.  
"I merely tried to intimidate it into following me; I did not wish to harm it," spit the boy.  
"So why would you pursue to capture it?" He pressed. "Your business in the tunnel was only to locate where they store their stones so that I may crush them from above!"  
"Cause their floors are made of wood!" Spit the boy at last. Silence accompanied the both of them.


End file.
